


All the Time in the World

by guineapiggie



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Also yes, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Established Relationship, F/M, they're still idiots about it tho, this is a random James Bond quote don't ask me why I have no idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 14:35:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13683678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guineapiggie/pseuds/guineapiggie
Summary: The hot, humid air presses heavily on his chest – he will not admit a big part of that is fear – and sweat drips down his nose, his shirt cold and damp on his skin.“There. All done,” he mutters, running his thumbs over the cramped muscles in her back, less because he really believes he can loosen them and more because he can feel the panic creep up on him once his hands have nothing to do anymore.“Does it hurt?” he asks softly, still tracing patterns alongside her spine, the same paths that her hands have taken over his skin in the dark all those times since Scarif.





	All the Time in the World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SublimeSenorita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SublimeSenorita/gifts).



> written for the Rebelcaptain Valentine's exchange for the lovely [sublimesenorita](http://sublimesenorita.tumblr.com/), based on this prompt:  
>  _A very overprotective Cassian taking care of Jyn after a particularly rough mission._
> 
> (I ran a bit more loosely with this one because I didn't want it to be too similar to my entry for the Christmas exchange, Thin Ice, which was pretty much exactly that ^^ hope you'll like it anyway!)

_This is bad. This is really bad._

“Keep going,” he mutters, wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers and forcing himself to tear his eyes away from the dark stain forming on her lower back.

“In _there?_ ” she asks, glancing at him. Her face is all hard lines, ghostly pale, and glistening with sweat. He’d really like to chalk it up to the disgustingly humid climate, but the blood soaking her shirt won’t allow for that – he would like nothing better than to get a look at it, but they can’t stop or that cut will be the least of their worries.

“We need cover.”

“They’ll never be able to land in there, Cassian,” she hisses over her shoulder even as they head deeper into the thicket underneath the trees. “It’ll muddy the signal, too.”

He grits his teeth and grips his blaster more tightly. “It’ll be hours before anyone comes, and we can’t stay out in the open or the Imps will make us.”

She climbs over the rotting remains of a fallen tree with a grimace and shakes her head. “This is really stupid. What do we know about this planet, anyway?”

“It’s hot as hell and we’ll get a sunstroke unless we get in the shade,” he bites back and offers her a helping hand that she swats away. “That’s good enough for me.”

“Is it? Because we have one functioning blaster and I kind of want to know if that will help when whatever is smelling my blood comes to _eat_ us,” she replies through gritted teeth and Cassian curses under his breath.

He didn’t think of that. Sometimes he wonders how he’s lived so long without her.

“We still need cover,” he decides quietly. “We don’t have to go in too far.” He wipes the hand holding the blaster and looks back over his shoulder. He can’t hear engines, which is good – then again, by the time they heard them coming, it’d probably be too late to get away.

The last bit of colour has drained from Jyn’s face and she’s starting to look slightly unsteady on her feet, but when he puts a hand on her back to stabilise her, she shrugs him off.

“’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” he mutters, casting a look over his shoulder to find he can’t see the clearing they came from anymore, which is what he was shooting for, but fills him with a looming sense of dread anyway. The thick vegetation around them provides far too much cover for his liking, but at least there won’t be a visible trail of footsteps to follow.

“That’s far enough.” He nods towards a dead tree on the ground and pushes his blaster into the holster. “Sit down, let me have a look.”

“I’m fine,” she says, though in a voice that’s far too faint to sell that statement, and stiffly lowers herself to the ground with a small groan. “’s just so _hot_.”

He can’t argue with that; his hair is plastered to his forehead, heavy with sweat and hanging in his eyes. He crouches beside her and lifts the hem of her tunic to get a look at the wound, finding an angry gash in the soft pale skin a few inches above the hip bone. He’d like to wash it clean so he can really see the damage, but there’s no wasting water in this climate.

The cut is deep, deep enough anyway that there’s no sign of the wound closing, and all that running has probably torn it open even further. Their small expired bacta patches alone won’t fix this, he thinks darkly, but at least it’s a clean cut, and not so big that it’d be life-threatening – except they’re stuck in this heat with a very limited supply of water. Extraction can’t come soon enough, but out of experience, Cassian knows it hardly ever does.

“How’s it look?” she asks softly. He sighs and places his free hand on her waist, absent-mindedly tracing circles over the sweaty skin.

“Not too bad. Hand me the bandages?”

What she really needs is stitches, but his hands are smeared with alien dirt and an infection would make their situation a lot worse, so he just bandages it as good as he can. The hot, humid air presses heavily on his chest – he will _not_ admit a big part of that is fear – and sweat drips down his nose, his shirt cold and damp on his skin.

“There. All done,” he mutters, running his thumbs over the cramped muscles in her back, less because he really believes he can loosen them and more because he can feel the panic creep up on him once his hands have nothing to do anymore.

“Does it hurt?” he asks softly, still tracing patterns alongside her spine, the same paths that her hands have taken over his skin in the dark all those times since Scarif.

“Not really.” She tries to turn around, then winces. “You’re okay, right?”

“Couple bruises,” he replies and gets to his feet with some effort. His back took a hit, too, but he wouldn’t tell her that on a good day, and this is _not_ what he’d call a good day. “I’m fine.”

He fishes the thermos out of his bag and takes a few greedy sips before handing it to her. “Drink that.”

“What about –“

Cassian sighs and reaches out to brush her hair out of her eyes. “I’ll be fine. You’re losing fluid too fast.”

“Yeah, well. Sorry about that, _captain_ , but,” she grimaces, “when I said _somewhere warmer,_ I didn’t mean _this.”_

The joke’s supposed to put him at ease, but her voice sounds faint and she looks feverish, and still ghostly pale.

“Drink something, Jyn.”

She shakes her head, then her fingers dig into his shoulder and she curses under her breath. “Later.”

“Jyn, you –“

“I drink any more, I’ll throw it up,” she grumbles. “And that would lose me more _fluids_ , right?”

“You feel sick?” He rests a hand on her forehead, eyes narrowing. “Does your head hurt?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And you’re dizzy.”

“ _Yeah_. Dehydrated, remember?” she gives back irritably, in that horrible faint voice, fingers still gripping his shoulder for balance. “I’m alright.”

“You’re barely sitting upright, Jyn,” he mutters, the fingers of his left hand feeling desperately for the commlink in his pocket. _They’re coming,_ he tells himself.

He sighs and lowers himself to the ground, propped up against the stump she’s sitting on, teeth gritted against the pain in his back. “Come down here,” he mutters and helps her settle against his good shoulder, lets his hand rest on the bandage for a moment to check if it soaks through, then gingerly places the blaster on his lap.

“Your head still spinning?” he asks softly and presses his lips to her hair.

“This’s better,” she whispers, resting her full weight against him now, and shakes her head when he puts the thermos back in her hands.

“Please, Jyn.”

“Only if you admit your back is hurting again,” she mumbles into his shirt and he grimaces.

“It’s been much worse. _Please_.”

She takes a small sip, her free hand reaching for his. “This make it worse? Me?”

There’s a muscle twitching somewhere to the right of his spine, straining to keep him balanced with the extra weight.

“No.”

“Liar,” she says flatly, and tries to sit up for a moment before ceding to his grip with a heavy sigh. “’m _hurting_ you –“

“Better than the alternative,” he cuts her off very quietly, pressing her hand. “Drink something.”

“You should have some –“

“I’m not losing you, not _now_ , and not to a tiny cut and a sunstroke, Jyn,” he says in a flat harsh voice he didn’t intend, but oh well. Now it’s out.

She takes two small sips, then leans her head back against his shoulder and presses his hand. “You won’t.”

 _Well, I don’t intend to,_ he thinks darkly, burying his nose in her hair and pulling his hand away to get out the commlink.

“Bodhi, come in,” he says quietly, not bothering to fix the hoarseness in his voice.

There’s a horrible moment where all that comes in response is static, then, slightly garbled but definitely Bodhi –

“I’m here. Captain.”

He closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath. “She’s hurt. Tell me you’re coming.”

“We are, we – We’ll be at your coordinates in thirty.”

That’s good news. It _has_ to be.

“Get as close as you can, we’ll come out to you.”

“Copy that.”

He pockets the commlink with a heavy sigh and starts mechanically running his fingers through her hair.

“’m okay, Cassian,” she whispers, resting her hand on his chest. “’t’ll be okay.”

He nods, but she seems to sense he can’t quite bring himself to believe her. Her fingers dig into his shirt and she adds, in a slightly firmer tone:

“We’ve made it through worse, haven’t we?”

He nods again, and tries not to think of her all burnt and broken on that transport. Thinks of the scars scattered across their bodies, and how stupidly, unbelievably lucky he has been, to live to see angry red fade to ghostly white, shimmering patterns, be allowed to trace his fingers along them.

“Yeah. We have. We have.”

 

* * *

 

 

When she opens her eyes, there’s coarse fabric against her cheek and an unpleasant sting in her arm, but she finds his fingers still firmly entwined with hers before she can panic.

He’s sitting on the floor next to the bed, head resting against the thin mattress, eyes shut; but she can see he’s not sleeping.

“Hey,” she murmurs, pressing his hand, and he sits up with a slight wince.

“Hey,” he echoes softy, smiling a little.

“This isn’t Hoth,” she mumbles and he shakes his head.

“Too far out. Some outpost, Bodhi told me the name, but…” He trails off and reaches out to touch his hand to her cheek.

“They couldn’t give you a chair?”

He gives a rueful little smile. “I’m not supposed to be in here,” he replies quietly. “Local customs.”

She smiles back a little. “How _rebellious,_ captain.”

His grin widens, just a smidge. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Headache’s gone, though.”

“Good,” he mutters. “Get some sleep.”

“You too,” she gives back. Her voice is too raspy to sound as commandeering as she would like, but she’ll let it count. “And something for your back. ‘s an order.”

He nods, but doesn’t make a move to get up. She can’t find the resolve to tell him to leave, just lets herself sink into the pillow and has almost dozed off when a thought crosses her mind and she blinks her eyes open again, finding his, dark and tired and warm. She should let him sleep, but –

She almost died, damn it, _again._ She’ll allow herself a little greed.

“You’ll be here when I wake up?”

He leans over and kisses her, slow and gentle, then presses something into her hand. _Commlink_.

“In case I’m not,” he says softly and smiles a little, “you wake me, okay?”

She hums a little against his lips. “’kay.”

Somehow, she drifts off to sleep before she can say the other things on the tip of her tongue, but it’s not so bad. There’ll be plenty of time to say it.

All the time in the world.


End file.
